


Meant No Harm

by purajobot935



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack Pairings, Dark Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overprotective, Sexy Times, Unlikely Hero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purajobot935/pseuds/purajobot935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First Aid realizes that being too protective can sometimes do more harm than good... Slightly OOC First Aid here, but there's an explanation as to why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant No Harm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tirya56](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirya56/gifts).



> Uploading this to welcome Tirya56 - a good friend and awesome writer - to AO3. Check out her works (once she has them all uploaded).

First Aid sighed and drew a hand across his visor, wiping away some of the steam that had gathered on it so that he could see what he was doing better. He was feeling unusually hot, which was odd considering that it wasn't all that hot outside. It was probably the stress, he reasoned with himself, the stress of being the sole medic in charge of considerably large med-bay.

Senior medic Ratchet had left with Prime, Prowl and a few other Autobots on a mission on the eastern coast, leaving Jazz in charge of the Ark and those who remained. Wheeljack was there too, but the engineer had his own work to do and would only step in to help in the case of a dire emergency.

So as of that moment First Aid was on his own, whether he liked it or not.

Normally the junior medic did his work without fuss or complaint, a testimony to his gentle mild-mannered temperament, but the last thing he wanted at this time was a loud, rude minibot with a mouth that was considerably larger than his processing unit.

As fate would have it however, that was exactly what he got, and now he had a rather vocal Cliffjumper on the table in front of him, in for a check-up on an old wound he'd sustained a few days ago. As the worst was over for the red minibot, he had no qualms about verbally harassing the ever-patient Protectobot.

But even his patience had his limits.

"Tired huh?" Cliffjumper asked him when he heard the sigh.

"Considerably, yes," First Aid answered, not looking up from the mech's shoulder where he was connecting a few more cables.

"Well that's understandable I guess."

"It is?" First Aid wondered; since when had the minibot cared about his line of work or personal well-being.

"Hey, you should know best, you're the one doing it."

"Uh… well yes, it does get quite tiring," the medic replied cautiously.

"Not surprising. They are warriors after all. Must take a lot of energy to keep up." Was that a sneer in his voice?

First Aid frowned behind his mask and visor, not liking where this line of conversation seemed to be going. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Cliffjumper snorted. "C'mon Aid. You know you're not as innocent as you pretend to be."

"Pretend to be?" First Aid repeated, his voice rising uncharacteristically as he frowned behind his visor.

He wasn't normally this irritated by verbal provocation like this – he was used to it – but coupled with the heat going through him, as well as the dull, tired ache in his body, it all served to make him unusually cranky – almost to the point of wanting to hit something… or someone.

"Oh can the act will ya," Cliffjumper went steamrolling on. "Everyone knows about you offering those two your 'services' in return for their protection. That mean you return every favor with your body?"

Something in First Aid finally snapped at that last comment and a rush of anger and irritation smothered his usually gentle nature too fast for him to stop it. He slammed the port cover hard enough to make Cliffjumper yelp in surprise and a little bit of pain.

"Get out of my med-bay," he growled.

"Or what? You're gonna call in your bed-mates?" Cliffjumper asked, but got off the table nonetheless.

"Or I'll throw you out myself, now FRAG OFF!" the medic snarled, not unlike his senior counterpart.

The minibot backed towards the doors. "You don't scare me. Heck you're too much of a coward to even pick up a weapon. Y'ask me, the Twins got the slag end of the deal. I mean, who's going to protect them from anything? Not you, that's for sure."

Unable to stop himself, First Aid picked up a beaker that happened to be the object closest to his hand and flung it. It shattered against the doorframe, just inches from the red mech's head. "Get out!"

Cliffjumper fled.

First Aid clutched the edge of the table with hands that trembled, trying to recover from the shock of what he'd just done, and why exactly he'd done it. After all, that wasn't the first time Cliffjumper had said something like that, so why had he lost his composure? Surely he wasn't starting to believe all those accusations, was he?

He wasn't with the Twins because he needed their protection. He loved them. The others were wrong, they had to be… but was he really a coward? Could harm come to the Twins because he was too afraid to protect them? In that case, it would be better if he could keep them safe and away from harm.

Yes, that was the solution, and he would show them – all of them – that he was not a coward. He would keep his Twins safe.

"Aid?"

The young medic released his death-grip on the edge of the table and turned to face the owner of that familiar voice. Sunstreaker stood at the door, head slightly tilted to one side, looking at him curiously.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Sun… what are you doing here?" First Aid asked.

The warrior crossed the room in a few strides and pulled the smaller medic into his arms. "Can't I pay my lover a visit?" He frowned. "You're shaking, are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine, its alright." He pulled away slightly and picked up a rag. "I need to clean up a little."

Sunstreaker released him and watched him as he moved to the door to clean up the broken glass.

"What happened?"

"Nothing… dropped a beaker, that's all," he replied.

"That's all?"

The medic paused, took a moment to compose himself and nodded, brushing up the glass into his hand. Then he stood and deposited the shards into a nearby trash can.

"Aid…" Sunstreaker took a step towards him.

"I said I'm fine." First Aid's head snapped up to level the yellow warrior with a look that said he wouldn't tolerate an argument to the contrary. "I am fully capable of taking care of myself, without the need for a bodyguard."

Sunstreaker raised his hands and stepped back. "Hey, take it easy Aid. I'm just worried about you."

"Well I appreciate your concern, but you have to learn to trust me to look after myself."

"I do trust you. Its just… you've been working really hard these days, what with Ratch being gone and all. Don't over-stress yourself alright?"

"I'm a medic Sun. I think I know what I'm doing."

"Okay then, I'll leave you to it." Sunstreaker sighed, a little stung, and retreated into the hallway.

First Aid looked up at him. "Sun, I'm sorry." He tried to smile. "I'll see you tonight."

Sunstreaker glanced back over his shoulder into the med-bay. "Yeah… sure." He shrugged and moved on.

The young medic sighed as he watched the warrior walk away and then frowned, picking up a rag and a bottle of detergent and moving over to the table Cliffjumper had been lying on, to sanitize the surface. He sprayed the liquid on and began to scrub furiously, as if trying to wipe away all that had been said and done those past few hours.

He'd been going at it for some time when finally a pair of grey hands reached out and took the cloth from him, stopping the motion of his hands in the process. First Aid looked up and into his creator's optics.

"You scrub any harder, you're gonna be stripping the metal, kid," Wheeljack said kindly, head-fins flashing a merry blue.

"Oh… y-yeah, sorry," First Aid stammered in reply, trying to compose himself.

"How're you holding up being sole medic?" the engineer asked.

"Its tougher than I thought it would be," said medic answered. "And so far its only been minor injuries. I don't know if I'm ready to handle anything major."

"Guess we'll know when the time comes," Wheeljack said.

First Aid looked alarmed. "What do you mean? You think something's going to happen? Wheeljack please tell me – is there going to be an attack?"

"Whoa, calm down Aid, I was just speaking in general," Wheeljack replied. "Listen, you're obviously tired to be wound up this tight. Why don't you go off and rest. I'll page you if there's anything that requires your services."

"I'm fine," the medic replied, then frowned. "My services?"

"As a medic," Wheeljack added without missing a beat.

"Oh… right… as a medic." First Aid took in a silent breath of air and tried to calm himself down.

"Go on and rest," the engineer encouraged. "Even Ratchet knows when he's tired and needs to take a break."

And I don't, First Aid thought as he headed outside. I don't know anything. I don't even know why I'm thinking like this. Then maybe you should stop thinking and rest like Wheeljack told you, a more rational part of his mind said, struggling to be heard through the general achy-ness he was feeling.

He finally reached his quarters and, without even needing to turn on a light, went straight over to the berth, flopped down on it and almost immediately fell into a deep recharge that only the volcano's eruption would have woken him out of.

00000

Some time later First Aid stirred and turned over onto his back. "What time is it?" he asked quietly as he started to power on his optics.

When a voice answered, he almost jumped out of his plating.

"A little past 8pm. You've been asleep for six straight hours."

"Sun?" First Aid asked.

A shadow shifted in the dark and the medic could only just make out the yellow warrior's form seated at a desk a little further away. For some strange reason, the thought of the mech just sitting there and watching him as he slept became rather disconcerting, thought it had never bothered him before.

"Yeah, its me," the other mech replied quietly.

"What are you doing there? Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed to rest. Thought I'd just watch over you."

First Aid sat up and turned the lights on. "I don't think anyone's going to do anything to me in my own quarters, so you needn't have worried." And you needn't have watched me like a stalker either, he almost added.

If that statement hurt Sunstreaker, the warrior didn't show it, and First Aid chided himself for being unnecessarily harsh on the yellow mech – he'd done nothing to deserve it.

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Its my quarter's too," he said quietly. "Unless you want me to move out."

The medic looked alarmed. "Sun, no! I- I'm sorry. You're right, I was tired – probably still am – but please don't go. Please don't Sun."

Sunstreaker stood, went over to the berth and sat down beside him, drawing him into his arms. First Aid clung to him, haklf-afraid that he would just suddenly get up and walk out.

The yellow mech stroked his head gently. "Sshhh, its alright Aid, I'm not going anywhere. Relax."

First Aid nodded and nuzzled into the curve of the warrior's neck and shoulder, and a moment later, Sunstreaker felt a light nip on one of his sensors. He smiled and let his engine give off a smooth purr, knowing the medic liked the feel of the vibration against his body. Sure enough, First Aid gripped him tighter and nibbled just the slightest bit harder, and for his part, the warrior let him do as he liked, content with just making soft sighs and moans of approval, and wrapping his arms loosely around the medic.

Tired, and frustrated with himself for being so even after six hours of sleep, and with no other avenue to let it out, First Aid began to nip harder into the yellow mech's neck. The drop of energon that bled out of the small cut only served to spur him on further. Sunstreaker shifted slightly, trying to move the medic's mouth to another spot, as the pain began to override the pleasure, but First Aid just gripped him all the tighter.

"Aid," Sunstreaker said softly.

"Quiet," the other mech replied, a little bit curtly.

The warrior tolerated a little more, then pulled back himself, exerting some of his considerable strength to break away from the over-enthusiastic medic. First Aid frowned at the interruption.

"What did you do that for?" he asked.

Sunstreaker dabbed at the sore sensor and his fingers came away stained with energon. "That's why."

"Oh," the medic looked away, a little guiltily. "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me, I just…"

The warrior cupped and stroked his cheek. "Does this have anything to do with Cliffjumper?"

First Aid looked up sharply. "What do you know about Cliffjumper?"

"Not a lot, that's why I'm asking you. I know you were patching him up before I came in."

The medic shook his head. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?"

A sigh. "Yes Sun, I said it was nothing." He was starting to feel the ache again.

"Then why were you shaking? Did he say something to you?"

"He always says things to me." First Aid shook his head. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Aid, if he- mmph!"

Sunstreaker's reply was cut short as the medic captured his mouth in a swift, hard kiss. The warrior blinked in surprise, but leaned into it nonetheless, lying back on the bunk as his younger lover pushed against him, gently stroking his fingers along a back seam in the process. He moaned softly at the pleasure running through his body, arching into the medic to try and feel more of his touch.

First Aid smiled to himself, the ache in his systems forgotten for the moment since he loved it when the warrior took on a submissive role now and then. He moved his hands along Sunstreaker's arms and gently eased them up above his head to where he knew the restraints were, and shackled them securely.

The yellow mech raised an optic ridge. "Feisty tonight are we?" he asked.

"You have no idea," First Aid murmured, trailing his fingers lightly down the warrior's torso.

Sunstreaker shuddered and moaned in pleasure, several sensors lighting up at his lover's touches, even as he arched and strained against his bonds, wanting more.

First Aid straddled his hips, fingers still drawing light teasing patterns along his chest and mid-section, driving him to madness. He leaned forward slightly.

"Tell me Sun," he purred. "Should I punish you or reward you for your behaviour tonight?"

He brushed his fingers across a seam on his lover's left side. Sunstreaker jerked and bucked his hips, gasping and crying out softly at the jolt of pleasure that shot through him. The restraints – a little tighter than usual – scraped against his wrists, and the slight pain only served to make the pleasure all the more intense.

"Slag… Aid…," he panted. "I don't… care what… you do… to me… as long as… you just… do that again."

"Do what Sun?" the medic asked, feigning innocence.

"Touch me… please," Sunstreaker almost begged, as he felt the other mech's fingers hover near the seam.

"Like this?" First Aid stroked the seam lightly, harder than he had the first time.

The warrior moaned again as his body convulsed in pleasure, optics darkening to a shade of indigo as his circuitry blazed in arousal, eventhough he could do nothing else but lie there and take it – not that he minded. First Aid kept rubbing the seam and leaned over to kiss his lover.

"I'm sorry love," he said.

Sunstreaker kissed him hungrily. "Its alright."

"Forgive me?" His fingers slipped into the seam.

"Slag yes!" Sunstreaker replied, though it was unclear if he was responding to the question or to the touch.

First Aid kissed him again, fingers making their way to the root circuit itself. Sunstreaker's optics darkened to navy and he shifted slightly, the sensations threatening to overload his systems and he being helpless to do anything about it. He could have used his considerable lower body strength to buck and throw the medic off, but there was no way in the Pits he would ever do that to him. Besides, there were worse things than being knocked out by one's lover's touches. He made a muffled sound against First Aid's mouth as the medic's fingers drew ever closer to the root circuit.

"Hush Sun," he murmured softly. "Trust me. I would never do anything to harm you."

His fngers pressed down on the root circuit, causing Sunstreaker to arch his back and let out a cry of ecstasy, right before his systems overloaded and caused him to pass out. Gently stroking his lover's head, First Aid slid off him and curled up next to him, wrapping an arm around the yellow mech's waist and kissing his cheek.

"Sleep well, my love," he whispered.

For himself however, he was just content to lie there for the moment with the prone warrior, just watching him – as Sunstreaker had done earlier – and letting his optics roam over his profile, now and then caressing him eventhough he probably couldn't feel it.

Sometime just after dawn, he heard an alarm go off somewhere in the Ark and frowned. That usually meant they were needed to fight. He looked back at Sunstreaker's offline form for a couple of minutes, then got to his feet.

"No one's going to harm you, Sun," he murmured.

Then he headed to the door and slipped outside, letting it slide shut behind him just as Jazz came running up.

"Mornin' Aid," he said. "There's been a report of a small band o' 'Cons causin' a ruckus outside a li'l town not far from here. 'Fraid I'm gonna need ta borrow the big guy from ya for a while."

"Is it bad?" First Aid asked.

"Oh, nothin' we can't handle," Jazz replied. "Mind wakin' up Sunshine up fer me?"

"I can't Jazz," the medic said. "He needs to rest. He wasn't feeling too well last night and I don't want anything to happen to him on the field. Is there any way you can manage without him?"

The visor over Jazz's optics betrayed nothing of what the saboteur was thinking. "Well, it'll be a li'l tougher without 'im, but I guess we could manage."

"Let me come along then, as a field medic. Wheeljack can look after everyone here."

"Don't you wanna stay here and take care of Sunny instead? I mean, if he aint well an' all…."

First Aid shook his head. "Sun needs rest, not me hovering over him like a mother hen."

"Alright then, if you insist," Jazz relented. "Just be careful out there, and keep a weapon with you. Self-defense aint a violation of your pacifist morals, remember that, kid."

"I'll remember Jazz," First Aid assured. "Let's go."

00000

When Sunstreaker came round, the first thing he became aware of was that his hands were still shackled above his head. Secondly, he came to realize that First Aid wasn't anywhere near him. He tugged on the restraints, but they were securely fastened to the berth and there was no way to break free of them by force without up-ending the berth itself.

Assuming that maybe the medic had stepped out for a minute to get some energon, and would be back soon, Sunstreaker decided to wait a little while longer, but when half an hour had passed without any sign on his young lover, the yellow mech grew concerned.

"Aid! This isn't funny!" he yelled out loud. "Where are you! I'm serious Aid, let me out of these!"

Snarling in more than a little frustration, the warrior began yanking on the restraints, trying to break out of them.

It just so happened that Wheeljack was passing by down the hallway and heard the ruckus from inside the room. Curious, since Jazz had mentioned Sunstreaker was unwell, he stopped. From what he could hear, Sunstreaker didn't sound like he was sick.

"Sunstreaker?" Wheeljack knocked on the door. "Everything okay?"

"Wheeljack!" Sunstreaker stopped struggling. "Get in here, I need your help!"

Punching in the override code, the engineer quickly entered the room and stopped short when he saw the yellow warrior shackled to the berth. Headfins flashing in surprise, he quickly went over to release him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Aid shackled me to the berth last night," Sunstreaker replied as he got one hand free. "We were playing around and he knocked me out."

"He knocked you out?" Wheeljack repeated. "With what?"

"Use your imagination." Sunstreaker's other hand finally came free and he sat up, rubbing his wrists.

"… Oh… right…" the engineer shifted uneasily.

"C'mon 'Jack, by now you should be used to the fact that I'm shagging one of your creations."

"Not when you put it that way."

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Anyway, when I came round, Aid was gone and I was still shackled to the berth. Where is he?"

Wheeljack's brow creased into a frown. "Went out with Jazz as a field medic. He said you were not feeling well and to leave you behind."

The warrior lept to his feet. "How long?"

"Half an hour at most."

"I'm gone. Transmit me the coordinates asap."

"Wait!" Wheeljack called as the yellow mech ran from the room. "What about Aid? Don't ya think there's something odd about the way he's been acting?"

"I'll leave you to figure that out," Sunstreaker replied as he broke into a run. "Right now I need to get out there and make sure I can bring him back in one piece so you can ask him."

"What about back-up?"

"I AM the back-up!"

Wheeljack sighed and shook his head and went to send the warrior the group's coordinates, before heading to prepare the med-bay for the casualties he knew would arrive when they came back. He just hoped First Aid wouldn't be one of them.

00000

First Aid yelped as the ground beside him burst into a shower of dirt, and quickly scampered and ducked behind a couple of sturdy boulders, a rifle clutched to his chest rather than held in his hand. What was he doing here? Why had he even asked to come along? He hated field-work, and figured he should have stayed back at the base with Sunstreaker.

Bringing his hands up swiftly, he shielded his head as the trio of jets roared overhead and a shower of rocks and rubble followed in their wake. Blinking and wiping off the dust from his visor, he looked up in time to see Jazz making his way towards him, weaving his way gracefully through the barrage of laser-fire comeing his way. First Aid shook his head – the saboteur made it look so easy. In moments, the black-and-white reached him and crouched down behind the boulders with him.

"How're ya holdin' up Aid?" he asked, his tone still light and friendly despite the situation.

"Barely," the medic admitted. "I don't know if I'm cut out for field-work Jazz."

"This aint yer first time on the field though," Jazz reminded him.

"Its my first time alone," First Aid replied. "The other few times I've been out here have been with Ratchet, or with my brothers as Defensor, and to tell you the truth Jazz, I don't think I can handle it."

"Ain't a matter o' thinkin' Aid," the saboteur said. "Y'just gotta tune out the bangs and the crashes an' do yer job."

"That's the whole point, I don't think I can." The medic looked down. "Every shot feels like its coming closer and closer…. And its one thing to see mechs after they've been injured, but to see them in the process of getting injured…" He trailed off and shuddered.

"Well then, I guess its lucky ya didn't see me get hit eh?"

First Aid looked up sharply, then noticed the trickle of energon running down the saboteur's far arm. He reached for it in alarm.

"What happened? Why didn't you say something sooner?" he asked as he produced a few tools.

"One o' the jets snuck up on ma blind side," Jazz replied. "Got off a shot too late fer me ta dodge it."

"You should have told me when you first came here instead of chatting about me," First Aid muttered as he cleaned out the wound, feeling slightly irritated.

"Had ta make sure you were in the right frame o' mind ta treat someone."

The medic frowned. "You didn't have to be so sneaky about it."

"S'ma job ta be sneaky." Jazz shrugged. "So? How about it Doc? Still scared?"

"Yes, for you," First Aid replied as he sealed off cables and began to weld a patch over the wound.

"There ya go then. Y'gotta decide what ya wanna be more scared of."

First Aid shook his head to try and dispel the niggling ache that had decided to re-surface. "I'm not a coward Jazz," he said firmly.

"Didn't say you were." The saboteur patted him on the shoulder and stood to head back into the battle. "Just do what you're good at."

The medic picked up his weapon again as Jazz ran back out. "Yeah, hide behind a boulder 'cause I'm too scared to go out and fight like everyone else," he muttered to himself.

With a sigh he turned back to keep watch on the battlefield, optics darting from one Autobot to another, watching the beams of laser fire to see if any made its mark. While there were only six Decepticons – the three Coneheads and the Insecticons – Jazz's group consisted of only himself, First Aid and four Minibots.

The medic jumped as a shot landed precariously close to Jazz and the black-and-white back-flipped out of the way, First Aid noticed him still favoring his damaged arm – clearly it was hurting him more than he was letting on. The saboteur stumbled as he landed back on his feet and gave Bombshell an opening to target him with one of his cerebro-shells.

First Aid scrambled to aim his weapon, but before he could get his gun up to bear, a beam of golden energy sailed across the battlefield and hit the Insecticon, causing his shot to go wide. Both Jazz and First Aid looked to see where the shot had come from, in time to see Sunstreaker transform from within a cloud of dust.

Jazz smiled.

First Aid frowned.

"Start the party without me?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Thought you couldn't make it," Jazz replied.

"Hound and Beachcomber need some back-up with the Insecti-clones," the warrior informed him, all business now. "You go help them, I'll take care of out fly-boys here." His optics glinted in anticipation.

Jazz knew that look. "You got it." He didn't envy the jets one bit

As expected, two of the jets converged on him, weapons firing haphazardly at the yellow mech who was fairly used to dodging these types of shots by now.

First Aid watched through narrowed optics as Sunstreaker leapt and grabbed Dirge's wings, twisting, wrenching and pulling till the jet was on a collision course with the ground. The warrior jumped clear at the last minute, and the medic winced as a cut opened up on his right knee. This was precisely why he'd wanted the mech to remain at home in the first place – so that no harm would come to him – and yet, here he was on the battlefield, fighting and getting hurt in the process. First Aid felt like he'd failed in his mission to keep his lover safe.

Thrust fired off a shot that singed Sunstreaker's left arm and First Aid frowned, even as Sunstreaker fired back and took out the jet's wing. This wasn't the way it was supposed to have been, and it was time he did something about it. He stood up and began walking over to Sunstreaker suddenly unafraid of the battle around him.

"What are you doing!" he asked. "You're ruining everything I did!"

Sunstreaker looked back and saw him. "Aid! Get behind some cover, slaggit! The last thing I need is you becoming a target."

"You're not even supposed to be out here!" First Aid kept walking.

"I am, Aid. I'm a warrior and this is my job. Warrior's fight, its what I'm built for."

The medic shook his head, pressing a palm to his forehead. "How could you do this to me?"

The warrior took a step back towards him. "I should ask the same of you – how could you chain me to the berth like that and then leave without even telling me?"

"It was to keep you safe, and away from all of this so you wouldn't get hurt, but you're wounded now and I feel like a failure. Why couldn't you just do what I wanted?"

Sunstreaker frowned, taking his optics from the sky for a moment to look at First Aid. "This isn't like you, Aid."

"Isn't it? How would you know? You always expect me to be submissive little Aid."

The warrior turned his head to face him. "You know that's not true."

"How do I know? You never treat me otherwise."

"Aid I- !"

A beam of violet energy streaked over First Aid's head and struck Sunstreaker square in the chest. The medic yelped and lunged to catch him as the yellow mech fell back unconscious, energon spilling out of damaged cables within the wound. Carefully he lowered the warrior to the ground and knelt over him, frantically trying to unspace his tools.

"Sun! Sun wake up! Talk to me!" he called urgently.

Sunstreaker didn't move. With hands that shook, First Aid reached to repair the worst of the damage. He was vaguely aware of footsteps approaching, but didn't look up. He could only hope it was one of the other Autobots.

"Now to finish him," a voice said.

At this, First Aid did look up, and saw Ramjet standing in front of them, weapons pointed directly at Sunstreaker.

"Leave him alone," the medic said, even as he felt a heaviness behind his optics.

"Or you'll do what?" Ramjet sneered. "Shoot me?"

"Yes," First Aid replied before he could stop himself.

The jet laughed. "You're a coward! Do you even know how to fire a gun?" He scoffed. "Step aside and let me finish him off. If I'm feeling generous I'll even kill you after I kill him."

Normally, First Aid would have been terrified at such a threat. Now, strangely, he just felt angry. This Decepticon was trying to harm Sunstreaker – had already harmed him – and he was not going to fail in his promise again. He picked up the rifle he'd unconsciously dropped beside him when the warrior had been shot, and aimed it at the Conehead.

"You will not touch him," he said quietly.

"Don't make me laugh!" Ramjet replied scornfully, as the business ends of his weapons began to glow.

First Aid aimed and fired, the shot sailing true and hitting the jet square in the cockpit. Ramjet staggered back, clutching a hand over the smoking wound.

"I said, you will not touch him," the medic repeated as he aimed the rifle again. "Now go away before I am forced to kill you – and I would rather not."

Thinking it wise not to try and test the medic's skill with a weapon, Ramjet transformed and took to the sky. He was followed soon after by his two wing-mates and the three Insecticons. First Aid flung the weapon away in disgust and bent over Sunstreaker again as Jazz came up to them, wounded arm bleeding again.

"Did you see what I did?" he asked.

Jazz nodded. "Yeah, I saw it."

"Don't tell me I did the right thing, please."

"Wasn't gonna. I do think y'need t'get yerself checked out though. Y'aint been yerself today."

"Sun said the same thing," First Aid replied, his voice shaky. "I didn't want to believe him and instead I distracted him by arguing. He got shot because of me!" He shook his head in despair. "They'll never speak to me again!"

"Whoa there, doc," Jazz said. "Reign in those horses. What might happen aint what matters – its what's happenin' now that's important. We need to get the two of you back home so ya both can be fixed."

"Y-you're right…. Sun's injury should be treated first." First Aid tried to think through the hazy ache in his head. "If you strap him to my roof, I can transport him back that way."

"You got it, doc."

"Your arm Jazz?"

"I'll live Aid, now transform. We'll clean up here and be right behind you."

First Aid transformed, and held still as Jazz and Hound lifted and gently placed Sunstreaker on his roof, strapping him down securely. As soon as Jazz patted his rear door, he set off, driving carefully so as not to bump and jostle the warrior too much. The journey felt a lot longer than it had coming out, but finally the Ark came into view.

Tired, achy and worried, he pulled up at the entrance, barely registering when Sunstreaker was lifted off his roof. He transformed back to robot mode and stumbled before he was steadied by a pair of red hands.

"Easy there, Aid," a familiar voice said.

The medic raised his head. "Ratchet?"

"Yeah, its me." He steered First Aid inside. "Jazz told me what happened. C'mon, lets get you checked out."

"Sun… Sunstreaker, what about him?" First Aid asked wearily.

"Wheeljack and Sideswipe are taking care of him. Don't worry, he's in good hands, and so are you."

"Thanks Ratchet," First Aid leaned against his mentor. "When Sun wakes up, can you tell him I said I'm sorry."

Ratchet put an arm around his apprentice. "You can tell him yourself."

00000

When First Aid activated his optics a day after the whole fight in the desert, the ache that had been bothering him over the last couple of days was gone, replaced now by a startling sense of clarity. When he remembered all that he had said and done during that time, he felt like shutting off his optics and going back to sleep for another 30 days or so.

But fate wasn't going to be that kind to him.

A familiar red, black and white form leaned over him.

"How're you doing Aid?" Sideswipe asked.

"Better," First Aid replied. "How's Sunstreaker?"

The red mech quirked a brow at the use of his brother's full name. "He'll be alright. The shot didn't damage anything vital so he should be up and about tomorrow."

"That's good." The medic looked down-cast.

"You don't seem particularly thrilled about it though," Sideswipe commented, frowning.

"I shot a mech, Sideswipe. I wanted to kill him. How can you ask me to be glad about that?"

"Because Sunny wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't done what you did. You saved his life."

"He wouldn't have been in that position if I hadn't distracted him."

"He got careless and let his attention slip."

"You know that's not true."

"I know that's what he said." Sideswipe sighed. "He's not blaming you, Aid, so why must you insist on blaming yourself?"

"You blame me, too."

"I believe what my brother says because he doesn't lie, and he said it wasn't your fault – not any of it." He gently cupped First Aid's cheek. "Let yourself off the hook Aid. You saved my brother."

First Aid was silent for a moment, then. "Where is he? Can I see him?"

"He's in the med-bay proper. You got the private area since you needed more rest than anyone."

"What was wrong with me, did Ratchet say?"

Sideswipe leaned over him with a grin and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Dear Aid," he said, stroking his head. "Such a silly little medic sometimes."

"I don't see what's so funny, Sides," First Aid replied, trying in vain not to smile.

"According to Ratchet, you literally blew a fuse that day when you were fixing Cliffjumper, which in turn affected your personality, making you more protective of things than normal."

"Oh." First Aid didn't know what else to say.

"I would have loved to have seen the look on the punk's face when you flung that beaker at him though."

"It was one of absolute shock and horror," the medic attempted a small smile. "I don't think I'll have any trouble from him for a while."

Sideswipe chuckled and was about to reply when Sunstreaker popped his head in. First Aid immediately tried to get up, but had to satisfy himself with sitting up with some help from the red mech.

"You shouldn't be up," he protested, half in annoyance, half in relief.

"Ratchet thought so, too, but I convinced him to give me ten minutes," Sunstreaker replied, coming in and sitting down on his other side.

"I'm timing it," First Aid replied. "If you're not gone by then, I'll toss you out myself."

The yellow mech only grinned and yanked him into a hug, before pulling back slightly and kissing him gently on the mouth. First Aid let out a surprised, muffled gasp, then relaxed into it as he felt Sideswipe's hands along his back.

"Ratchet'll kick us all out if he sees," he said softly when Sunstreaker released him.

"He never specified what I could do in the ten minutes," the warrior replied.

"Or what we couldn't do," the red twin added.

"Which means we're free to do what we like, as long as we're done in ten minutes," Sunstreaker concluded matter-of-factly.

First Aid wasn't about to argue the matter an further. It wasn't important. Whatwas important was that Sunstreaker was safe and he had been forgiven by both twins. Letting out a mock-sigh, he relaxed in the embrace of the two warriors as they wrapped their arms around him and nuzzled the sensitive areas of his neck and torso.

Unable to do anything back, at least not to Sunstreaker, the medic simply contented himself with relishing their touches – after all, it wasn't as if he didn't like them.

Carefully, he raised Sunstreaker's head and kissed him deeply, making a soft happy sound when the yellow mech returned the gesture. Once he was satisfied, First Aid released him, then turned his head and captured the red twin's mouth. Sideswipe purred and touched the medic's cheek.

"You three had better not be getting up to any kinky business in there!" Ratchet's voice bellowed from outside.

First Aid released Sideswipe and stroked the brothers' faces gently with his hands, smiling.

"No Ratchet," he replied. "We're saving that for later."

END


End file.
